


Do The Trick or Treat

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, Birthday, Halloween, M/M, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 02:44:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8428381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "We should go trick-or-treating," Pete said.
There was silence. Everyone stared at him.
Gerard thought that everyone felt rather amazed at how ridiculous the thought was.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The result of me wanting to do something for Frank's birthday and me loving the Childish Pete trope.
> 
> The title is from the Panic! At the Disco song "It's Almost Halloween". If you haven't heard it yet, do so immediately, you won't regret it.

 

They were in Frank's basement, holding cans of Coke, satisfied from the amounts of soft drink, cake, and pizza consumed, just after Frank had opened his birthday presents, when Pete opened his mouth.

 

"We should go trick-or-treating," Pete said.

 

There was silence. Everyone stared at him.

 

Gerard thought that everyone felt rather amazed at how ridiculous the thought was.

 

"We are literally in our senior year of high school and you want us to walk around in our costumes and ask strangers for candy," Ray spoke up, disbelievingly.

 

"Come on!" Pete grinned. "It'll be fun! When else would we get free candy?"

 

Joe cleared his throat. " _Pete_..."

 

"What if we're seen by some jocks and get beat up at school?" Frank asked, pushing himself up from where he was slumped on the couch, even though he didn't seem to actually be concerned about that.

 

"It involves candy, though," Brendon replied thoughtfully, and everyone's heads turned to look at him instead.

 

"Half of us in this room are legal adults!" Ray snorted. "We can't go trick-or-treating!"

 

"Come on!" Pete said, whining slightly. "You're already wearing costume."

 

That much was true, Gerard acknowledged. He himself was dressed up like a vampire (as he had done for the past five years of his life). Frank, who was wedged between him and Mikey (Mikey wearing a green body suit and was pretending to be an alien), was a zombie, and Ray was Chewbacca.

 

Patrick, who at the moment was cuddling with Pete whilst glancing back and forth at the people participating in the present conversation, was dressed in a skeleton onsie, which was childish, but Gerard had to admit, he looked adorable. Which Gerard would never say out loud, because Patrick's boyfriend could get a bit possesive.

 

Joe was a wizard, his costume complete with a long, feathery white beard.

 

Pete was a hot-dog. Gerard was pretty sure that it was meant to be some sort of innuendo, but he couldn't prove it.

 

And Brendon, well, nobody knew what Brendon was. He was wearing a cloak and a shirt with a pentagram on it. It might have been something related to the occult.

 

"Please!" Pete smiled hopefully.

 

"Can we like, not?" Gerard decided to finally say something, because he could see the others' resolves weakening. He could see it in their eyes. And Gerard didn't want to go trick-or-treating. He wasn't against the candy, but trick-or-treating meant going outside. Where there were other people. Where there were kids. Possibly some people he knew from school, even though they probably wouldn't be looking for candy, they would probably be looking to TP some poor soul's house.

 

Pete scowled at him.

 

"It's Frank's birthday," Patrick said, glancing at Pete, then the rest of the group. "Let him decide."

 

"Frank?" Pete turned to Frank, doing the begging thing with his eyes, which would maybe have looked cute on, say, a puppy, but it was Pete.

 

"It's been a while since I've gone trick-or-treating," Frank answered. "And I wouldn't mind stretching my legs. Or candy." He grinned. Then he looked at Gerard. "But if you don't want to..."

 

If Frank wanted to, who was he to say no? It wasn't like Gerard could do that on a normal day, least of all his birthday. "It's fine," he replied quicky,"You want to go, right? We can go."

 

He hardly paid attention to Pete's loud "Yes!", as Frank's face broke into a bright smile.

 

***

 

It was too cold outside, Gerard decided, wrapping his black cape around himself to stop the hair on his arms from pricking up. The slight chill, the dim lighting of the streetlamps, the distant noises of cars and kids laughing...it all felt like a horror movie. If it was, Gerard knew that with his brilliant luck, he would be the first loser to die.

 

"Hey," Frank said, falling into step besides him.

 

"Hey," Gerard replied.

 

"You're, like, okay with this, right?" Frank asked. He seemed genuinely concerned with whether Gerard would be enjoying himself or not. Not that Gerard's other friends didn't care whether he was enjoying himself, it was just a nice thing that Gerard happened to notice.

 

"Yeah." He looked at Frank. "It's your birthday, so, whatever you want, Frankie." He gave Frank a small smile.

 

The corners of Frank's mouth curled up. "Yeah, but-"

 

"If I knocked on this door, do you think they would give me candy?" Pete called out, grinning impishly.

 

"I don't know, man, I'm sure that if they didn't look too closely , you could pass as a fifth grader," Joe told him somberly.

 

"Fuck you," Pete groaned, and Mikey snorted.

 

"Seeing as I'm shorter than him, I take offense to that," Patrick said dryly.

 

Pete turned quicky and pressed a kiss to Patrick's cheek, spun away just as fast and bounded up to the front door of a house which had a front yard littered with tombstones and bones.

 

"Jesus Christ," Patrick (who was slightly pink) muttered as Pete knocked on the door.

 

They all watched in some sort of fascination as Pete yelled "Trick-or treat!" and the door was pulled open by a young boy who couldn't have been more than six.

 

"Daddy!" the kid yelled- Brendon snickered at that, making Ray roll his eyes-," Somebody needs candy."

 

A man appeared at the doorway, dressed like a typical suburban dad, Gerard noted, and stared at Pete suspiciously. "Aren't you too old to be trick-or-treating?"

 

"Nobody's too old for candy, Daddy!" The boy bounced up and down. Pete beamed at him.

 

The man grunted, and Gerard could see him shove a handful of Twizzlers into Pete's bucket. The door then slammed shut, and Pete let out a celebratory whoop.

 

"Move, bitch, I want some." Brendon flashed a hand out and grabbed one, ignoring Pete's protests.

 

Frank giggled. "We should go," he said.

 

"Good idea," Patrick muttered, grabbing onto Pete's arm and pulling him down the sidewalk.

 

Gerard almost tripped over his own feet trying to follow after them, how fucking embarrasing, and he tried to ignore the way his heart thumped a little more loudly when he felt Frank's warm hand on his arm, steadying him.

 

"Watch out," Frank smiled, his eyes brimming with amusement.

 

"Shut up," Gerard muttered in retaliation.

 

"So sassy," Frank teased, and Gerard scowled at him.

 

"I hate you."

 

"Sure," Frank sighed dramatically.

 

"Can you guys hurry up?" Mikey shouted from a few yards away, and the two of them scrambled forward to catch up to them.

 

"Is Pete going to go to every house and ask for candy?" Gerard asked incredulously, once he was walking next to Mikey.

 

Mikey didn't answer for a moment. His eyes trailed after Pete, who was running up the driveway of another house, almost tripping when a witch-like voice growled," Come forward, children."

 

"Looks like it," Mikey said.

 

"This is so fucking ridiculous," Ray piped up. He was apprehensively watching the door open and two women peered out, smirked at Pete, and then tossed a handful of candy into his bucket.

 

"It's okay," Frank chirped," When we get home we can steal it all from him."

 

Brendon, who was walking a few feet ahead with Patrick and Joe, turned around and grinned at Frank devilishly. "Good idea."

 

"Oh my _god_ ," Gerard muttered," Frank, you've incited a war."

 

"Oops." Frank shrugged, grinning.

 

***

 

It was almost 7:30 when the jocks found them.

 

Well, that wasn't entirely true. The jocks didn't find them-- Brendon spotted them and then flapped his hands and hissed at Pete and Patrick. Patrick realized what was going on and conveyed the message to the rest of their group to be very, very quiet.

 

Also, only two of the six of the "jocks" were actual jocks. The other two were the jock's friends. The last two were the jocks' girlfriends, dressed up in tiny skirts and revealing tank tops.

 

Now, Gerard was all for women's empowerment. But he was a vaguely chubby, greasy, homosexual teenager. Miniskirts and exposed cleavage intimidated him.

 

"Just back away slowly," Joe whispered.

 

They all, very carefully, walked backwards, because they weren't too far from the other group, and if they, say, tripped, or spoke too loudly, they would be caught, and they all knew that dressing up for Halloween and going trick-or-treating was looked down upon in the modern high school society.

 

When they were far away enough that they wouldn't be recognized, Gerard let out a sigh of relief. He did not for a second think that he was being over dramatic. He had one bad experience with them involving comic books and fists- he was not anxious to repeat it.

 

"We should go to the park," Pete suggested, pointing towards the area. Gerard could see the silhouette of the jungle gym rising up from the playground.

 

"We really shouldn't," Ray pleaded, but Brendon and Pete had already taken off, running and dodging the streetlamps as if they were in some action movie.

 

Frank gave Gerard an innocent smile.

 

"Oh no," Gerard said faintly," Not you, too."

 

Frank's smile grew wider, and he took off after the other two.

 

"Our friends are idiots," Ray sighed.

 

"Touché," Mikey deadpanned.

 

They headed towards the park at a slower pace, and by the time they reached, Frank, Brendon, and Pete were lying on their backs staring at the sky.

 

"What are you doing?" Patrick asked, nudging Pete's leg with his foot.

 

"Cloud gazing."

 

Gerard glanced up. There were no clouds in the sky. "There are no clouds in the sky."

 

"You need to use your imagination, Gerard!" Pete replied.

 

Mikey snorted.

 

"What if you got eaten by the killer clowns?" Joe asked, leaning over slightly to look Brendon in the eye.

 

"I really don't think that they're actually eating anyone?" Gerard frowned at Joe.

 

Joe made a motion with his hand. "Those are irrelevant facts. The point is, you three could have gotten murdered by clowns, and none of us would try and save you."

 

"Gerard would try and save me," Frank said, smiling cheekily up at him. "Wouldn't you, Gee?"

 

Gerard completely ignored the way his stomach warmed when Frank used the nickname, because, lots of people called him 'Gee'. "I could try. I would probably fail."

 

"Nonsense." Frank's playful gaze met his own. "The hero never fails."

 

Gerard looked away, hoping that the darkness would prevent Frank from seeing the very obvious blush on his face.

 

"Doesn't that make you the damsel in distress, or something?" Mikey asked.

 

"Probably." Frank shrugged. "But the damsel in distress never has to do anything, so. I'm fine with that."

 

"You always make me do all the work," Gerard sighed.

 

Frank winked at him. "You know it, baby."

 

Mikey rolled his eyes at them.

 

"Patrick would protect me if a clown tried to eat me," Pete piped up. "Wouldn't you, babe?"

 

Patrick scowled down at Pete. "Not if you keep calling me 'babe', I won't."

 

"That's so rude." Pete pouted.

 

"Get used to it," Patrick grumped, but Gerard could see his lips twitch up slightly.

 

"This is so unfair. Nobody will ever save me from the clowns," Brendon complained.

 

"It's not our fault that you're disgusting, Bren," Frank told him in a very serious voice.

 

"That is untrue." Brendon scowled. "I am too good for any of you."

 

"Oh, of course," Gerard said.

 

"One moment you're complaining that nobody wil save you from the clowns," Joe commented lightly," The next you're saying that you're too good for us. Make up your mind, dude."

 

"Fuck off" was Brendon's reply.

 

"So sassy," Pete snorted.

 

"If there's anyone here that's sassy-" Frank propped himself up on his elbows. "-It's Gee." He held one hand up and made a grabbing motion, meaning that he wanted Gerard to pull him up.

 

"Shut the fuck up," Gerard answered, and pulled on Frank's hand. Except Gerard was weak, so he kind of stumbed, and almost fell on Frank.

 

"Ow, motherfucker," Frank groaned when Gerard accidentally stepped on his toe.

 

"Language," Mikey said in a monotone. Ray's lips twitched.

 

"I'll just get up by myself, then," Frank grumbled, rolling himself over and pushing himself up.

 

"It wouldn't kill you to exercise," Ray told him," Or, just, move without someone assisting you."

 

Frank flipped him off.

 

"Why is the dirt wet?" he complained, brushing a few specks of mud off from his jeans, which, frankly speaking, were already torn and covered in splashes of bright red paint, which Gerard assumed was supposed to be cheap blood.

 

"It gets moist." Brendon waggled his eyebrows at Frank from the grass, and Frank wrinkled his nose.

 

"How do you manage to sexualize dirt?" Frank asked critically.

 

Brendon waggled his eyebrows again. "I can make anything sexy, babygirl."

 

"Don't, though," Joe told him.

 

"You needs a girlfriend," Pete declared.

 

Brendon's cheeks colored noticablely. "I do not."

 

"Yes, you do." Pete sounded very serious. He was still sitting on the ground, his face pressed lightly against the side of Patrick's hip. "You have lost track of what's sexy and what's not."

 

"Shut up." Brendon scowled. "Just because you and Patrick fuck like bunnies-"

 

"Don't bring me into this!" Patrick huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

Pete grinned. "At least I'm getting laid."

 

"Who say's that I am not-"

 

"Can we just-" Gerard interrupted. "- not discuss your sex lives."

 

"I agree," Mikey jumped in.

 

"We should leave," Patrick added quickly.

 

"We just got here!" Pete complained. "Why are we leaving so quickly?"

 

"So that we can end the current conversation," Patrick replied dryly, looking down at Pete and patting him on top of his sausage-shaped cap.

 

Pete pouted but got up. In the five years that Gerard had known them, Gerard has not once- not before they were dating, not ever- seen Pete refuse to do what Patrick said. Not because Patrick was forceful, or controlling, because Patrick was actually the nicest person in existence. Pete just loved Patrick to the moon and back.

 

If Gerard was completely honest with himself, he would have admitted that he envied their relationship, because, duh, who wouldn't want a healthy and loving relationship with their best friend? But Gerard wasn't honest with himself, and also the king of denial, so he did not admit it to himself.

 

Gerard wondered if he even had a best friend. He would have said Mikey, or Ray, probably, but the two of them spent so much time with each other that it kind of made Gerard envious, too. Pete and Patrick were the same case, and while he hung out with Joe and Brendon often, he just didn't have enough in common with them to actually say that any of them were his best friend.

 

The only person, Gerard knew, who could be Gerard's best friend, was Frank. But Frank just moved to Belleville eight months ago, and anyways, after the unspeakable incident of fifth grade, he refused to call anyone his best friend unless he was a hundred percent sure that he was their's.

 

Joe pulled Brendon up- Frank scowled at him, probably wondering why Gerard couldn't be stronger- and Brendon almost fell over from the momentum, which made Frank giggle, and Gerard's heart pattered with a bit more force. It seemed to be doing that quite a lot, lately. He thought that he should probably go see a cardiologist or something.

 

After Pete finally stood the fuck up, because apparently it was impossible to do in a hot-dog suit, they dragged themselves away from the park and started back down the street.

 

"This is probably the strangest celebration of my birthday I have ever experienced," Frank said. He was walking next to Gerard again.

 

"We can go home," Gerard suggested, frowning, because he didn't want Frank thinking that he had wasted his birthday, or that they didn't care enough to stop. He also really hoped that Frank didn't actually have an issue with their friends being fucking weird, because they weren't going to change, and Gerard happened to want to hang out with both Frank and them.

 

"No, you idiot," Frank snorted, almost affectionately," I mean, it's strange. You guys are strange. Doesn't mean it's bad."

 

Gerard let out a small sigh of relief. "Okay. Good."

 

"Fucking idiot," Frank repeated, bumping his shoulder against Gerard's arm. "I'm not going to ditch you guys."

 

"To be fair, any sane person probably should," Gerard admitted.

 

"Good thing I'm not, then," Frank said, and his hazel eyes met Gerard with such an intensity that Gerard felt a little twist in his gut.

 

"Good thing," Gerard repeated, glancing away for a brief moment, but when his eyes flicked back to Frank, he was already looking ahead at the sidewalk.

 

"Can you two nerds walk faster?" Mikey mumbled, even though he and Ray slowed down a bit to walk with them.

 

"You're calling me a nerd?" Frank demanded. "You and Ray work at a comic book store together."

 

Mikey shrugged, making a motion as if he was trying to stuff his hands in his pockets. Of course, he was wearing an alien suit, so there were no pockets. "You go to our house to read comics with my brother. That you've already read."

 

Frank narrowed his eyes at him, clearly unable to come up with a suitable response, and then turned his head to look at Gerard, cocking his head a little bit, giving Gerard an "oh well" look. "Maybe I just like reading comics with your brother."

 

"Exactly. Nerd," Ray pointed out, and Frank stuck his tounge out at him. Gerard giggled, and Mikey rolled his eyes.

 

"You all bully me," Frank complained.

 

"Please," Mikey scoffed," We could say much worse."

 

Gerard looked at his brother. "I don't think that's how they determine whether you're being a bully."

 

"We're just telling you the truth," Ray said.

 

"Fuck you," Frank replied. "We're so much cooler than you guys."

 

"You have six friends."

 

"We have the same number of friends!" Frank cried out, throwing his hands up in the way one usually did when arguing with Mikey Way.

 

Gerard burst out laughing at the exasperated look on his face. Frank hadn't learned, yet, how you could never win an argument with Mikey. He was like a mom- he used twisted logic and shit like "I told you so" to get his point across.

 

Then again,Gerard took about twelve years to learn that lesson, so he decided to cut him some slack.

 

"Yea, but-" Mikey was cut of by the sound of a door slamming, and his head jerked in the direction of the sound.

 

Gerard whirled around in time to see Pete take a flying leap off the porch of a greying house, a balding man waving his fist at them. He could see the glint of a beer bottle clutched in the man's hand.

 

"Fucking...teen..peice of...." The man slurred loudly," Get outta here...before I fucking gut you!" He took a swig from the bottle. "Scram!"

Pete took off before Gerard was fully away of what was going on, pulling Patrick along with. For someone who was clearly very drunk, the man had very good aim. The bottle could have easily hit Pete, or Joe. Gerard heard a shattering noise somewhere towards his left, and when the man stumbled past the doorway and onto the porch, he started running. Frank was there by his side, a few inches ahead, his eyes startled, his hand clutching Gerard's wrist.

 

They didn't run very far- they turned the corner at the end of the street, and thankfully, the next road was lined with a string of small stores-- a Subways and a drugstore, among others. Patrick and Pete were outside a convenience store, Patrick red-faced and panting, and Pete (the soccer-playing asshole) looking worried.

 

"I'm so sorry!" he burst out as soon as Gerard and Frank were within earshot.

 

"It's not your fault," Frank wheezed, doubled over and clutching his sides. "Fuck."

 

Gerard didn't speak, just concentrated on gulping in burning lungfuls of air. He never ran unless the coach in Gym class forced him to, and when he did, he just pretended to run while actually moving at a walking pace. So he was pretty out of shape.

 

"You guys are all so weak," Pete commented, only sounding slightly out of breath. "Where's Mikey and Ray? Joe and Brendon are almost here- ouch!"

 

Joe had punched Pete in the bicep, and not lightly. He glared at the shorter teen, and growled," Good job."

 

"I'm sorry!" Pete pouted. "I didn't know that it would be some drunk old guy."

 

Joe rolled his eyes, and turned to Patrick. "You okay, dude? You look like a tomato."

 

"Fine," Patrick gasped," Just a bit dizzy."

 

"Where's Mikey?" Gerard huffed, his breathing pattern still not back to normal. "And Ray?"

 

"Shit," Brendon groaned, breathing heavily. "I don't know, fuck."

 

"They can't have been to far behind," Frank said, panting. His face was flushed and his eyes were half closed, and he was leaning against the rough concrete of the convenience story, and Gerard really had to stop that train of thought before it left the station.

 

"Give them a few minutes," Joe suggested. "Maybe they ran in another direction, or something."

 

"I hope so," Gerard replied worriedly," What if the guy's keeping them hostage?"

 

"You watch too many movies," Frank said, smiling slightly. "That's not gonna happen...guy was too drunk to be able to tie them up, anyways."

 

Gerard flapped his hands up and down. "You never know!"

 

"I do, though," Frank snorted a little, in a really adorable way, like how a puppy might.

 

Gerard frowned at him. "Are you mocking me?"

 

Frank grinned mischeviously. "Fuck yea."

 

Gerard kicked his foot gently. "Asshole,'' he muttered, moving to lean against the wall next to him. "I'm going to fucking kill Mikey and Ray when I see them."

 

"I'm sure you will." Frank nudged his shoulder, smiling again. "You're so _warm_ , what the fuck."

 

"It's because I used the cape to conserve body heat," Gerard explained, allowing Frank to press up to his side, even though it made his heart pound. "You're so cold."

 

"I'm wearing a t-shirt," Frank mumbled into his shoulder," I should kill you and make a skin suit out of you."

 

"Well that escalated quickly," Pete commented with a smirk, and Gerard gave Frank a look.

 

"I let you warm yourself up on me, and you threaten to kill me, how unfair is that," Gerard complained.

 

Frank giggled, and Gerard's stomach flipped over, shit. "I said I should, not that I would."

 

"Besides, Gerard would make a disgusting skin-suit," Brendon piped up.

 

"I'm sure that I should take offense to that," Gerard said to him," But I don't want to turn into a skin suit."

 

"Maybe you should call Mikey now?" Patrick interrupted, when Frank opened his mouth to reply.

 

"I- yeah." Gerard dug his hand into his pocket and extracted his phone (His jeans weren't even skinny and it was hard to get it out. How Brendon wore those skin tight jeans was beyond him).

 

He had Mikey on speed dial, so he had the phone ringing within a few seconds. It rang a few times before it went to voicemail, and Gerard hung up in frustration.

 

"He's not answering!" he hissed.

 

"Call again," Frank said patiently.

 

Gerard made a face at him but hit the 'call' icon again, wincing when the cold material pressed against his ear.

 

This time, it rang thrice before it was picked up, and Mikey's voice spoke. "Gee?" His sounded breathless and Gerard raised his eyebrows, even though he knew that Mikey couldn't see him.

 

"Christ, Mikes, how much did you run?"

 

"I- uh, I don't know," Mikey answered, and Gerard could hear an intake of breath on the other line. "Listen, me and Ray are going to head home."

 

"Okay." Gerard coughed. "Is Ray going to walk you home? Don't go alone!"

 

"Jesus Christ, Gee, I'm not five," Mikey muttered," Ray's here. He's taking me home, don't worry. You don't get yourself murdered."

 

"I'm with five other people, I'm not the one who has to watch out," Gerard scoffed. Then, in a softer voice, he said," I'm hanging up now. Stay safe."

 

"You too," Mikey replied, and Gerard could hear the eye-rolling in his voice. "Bye."

 

The call ended and Gerard stuffed his phone back in his pocket. "They're going home," he told to rest of the group.

 

"We should head home, too," Patrick admitted, turning to Frank. "You okay with it? Sorry if didn't turn out like you imagined."

 

Frank beamed. "It was amazing, are you kidding? I mean, I wouldn't have chosen to be threatened by a drunk guy, but that turned out okay. You're right, though, let's go home. My mom would kill me if I stayed up."

 

"Let's take a different route back, though," Joe suggested dryly, and Gerard murmured in agreement.

 

***

 

They all went back to Frank's house, because that's where their cars were. Pete planted a kiss on Patrick's cheek, smirking as Joe rolled his eyes at the two of them. Patrick, who was blushing profusely, slid into the passenger seat of Joe's car, and, because they were neighbors, drove off together. Pete then proceeded to run across the street to his own house, and Brendon said goodbye to Gerard and Frank and drove back to his own house in his own car.

 

And then it was just Gerard and Frank. Gerard twisted his hands together, trying to warm them up.

 

"You should sleep over," Frank suggested lightly.

 

Gerard didn't think that Frank knew how much that idea made his heart stop. "Um..."

 

"It'll be fun!" Frank nudged him, his lips twisted up in a smile.

 

"I don't know...will your mom be okay with it?" Gerard asked awkwardly. "I don't want to intrude..."

 

Frank made a disapproving noise. "My mom will be fine with it, Gerard, she loves you. The real question is will your parents allow you?"

 

"My parents are fine, they always are," Gerard answered, shrugging," I just need to text Mikey and let him know."

 

"'Kay, then." Frank's eyes glinted. "That's settled." He grabbed Gerard's arm and pulled him up his driveway.

 

Frank flung open his door and Gerard grabbed it at the last moment, stopping it from hitting the wall.

 

"Ma?" Frank called out.

 

"Frank!" was the reply- Gerard couldn't see her, but he assumed that Frank's mother was in the living room, based on his locating skills.

 

Frank started forward, and peeked his head into the living room. Gerard followed, uncomfortably, trying not to make too much noise while walking.

 

Linda Iero glanced at them from where she was sitting on the couch, a television program playing. "I expected you boys to come home later, good job. Hello, Gerard."

 

"Hi, Ms. Iero," Gerard greeted her politely.

 

"Ma, it's okay if Gerard stays over, right?" Frank asked, smiling charmingly in that way that could get Gerard to do anything for him.

 

"Of course," Ms. Iero answered," As long as you sleep. No staying up."

 

"Okay," Frank agreed brightly," Come on, Gee."

 

Gerard followed Frank upstairs, into his room. Gerard loved Frank's room. It was so him. Posters covered almost every inch of the wall, there was a magazine on the floor, and a pair of socks hanging on the chair that was pushed up by the desk. Gerard pulled out his cell phone, sending a quick text to Mikey: 'gonna stay at frnks for the night.'

 

A few moments later, Mikey texted back: 'k dnt forget 2 use protection'.

 

Gerard scowled at the phone screen.

 

"You should probably wash off your make-up," Frank remarked, tossing a pen at him.

 

"I'll need, like, make-up remover," Gerard responded, squinting at the full length mirror that was hung on the back of Frank's door. His hair was messy and the white face paint had faded away in patches, making him look like a vampire with a skin disease. The fake blood had almost entirely washed away, leaving just faint traces of it around his lips.

 

"I could probably sneak some from my mom's room," Frank offered, peering into the mirror, his own cheaply done makeup smudged over his cheek.

 

"I'll just try washing it off." Gerard shook his head. "Don't go through the trouble."

 

"If you're sure" was the reply. "I'm going to change," Frank told him," You should, too, unless you want to sleep in a cloak and dress pants."

 

"I didn't bring any clothes," Gerard pointed out.

 

"Borrow some of mine." Frank shrugged, clearly unaware of the way he just made Gerard's heart skip.

 

"Um-"

 

"They might be a bit tight on you though," Frank continued, sifting through the top drawer in his closet. He tossed an old Misfits shirt in Gerard's general direction, which ended up hitting his face.

 

"Do you want the Star Wars pajamas or the black ones?" he asked.

 

Gerard blinked hard, because that wasn't a question that he would ever think Frank would ask him. "Um," he repeated thickly-- what the hell was he supposed to answer?

 

"You're right, you should have the Star Wars one." Frank gave him a shit-eating grin and tossed that at Gerard, too.

 

"Fuck you, I hate you," Gerard said, bending over to pick it up off the ground. He went into Frank's bathroom to change, since he wasn't really into doing it in front of other people.

 

When Gerard had came out , he was greeted with the sight of Frank tugging off his stained shirt. Gerard's mouth felt unusually dry. He hastily averted his eyes as Frank changed, praying to any higher power that he wasn't blushing.

 

Frank jumped onto his bed-- literally jumped, folding his legs underneath him like a five year old. "Come on," he said, patting the space next to him.

 

Oh, God. "Are we going to, uh, share the bed?" Gerard asked uneasily.

 

Frank rolled his eyes. " _Yes_. Don't worry, I'm not going to dishonor your chastity, or whatever."

 

Gerard eyed him nervously. "I know that. But, like, are you sure that you want to share with me?"

 

"Yes, Gee." Frank patted the bed again. "Come on, I'm tired."

 

Gerard slowly slid under the cool, blue sheets, almost feeling bad for rumpling them up. His own bedsheets at home were a complete mess, since he didn't have the ability to fix them properly.

 

The golden light of the lamp on the nightstand threw Frank's face into sharp contrast. Gerard made sure that there was at least two feet of space between them, because if they were lying closer _in bed_ , he couldn't be sure that he wouldn't do something stupid.

 

They lay together in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, before Frank spoke up. "Are your brother and Toro fucking?"

 

"What?" Gerard choked out. " _No_!"

 

"Are you sure?" Frank gave him a look. "They spend all their time together."

 

"No, what?" Gerard propped himself up on his elbows, shaking his head distractedly," Ray's straight, and ew, I don't want to think about this."

 

Frank raised an eyebrow at Gerard, pushing himself up so that his eyes were level with Gerard's. "You really haven't noticed the way they were glued to each other tonight?"

 

"They weren't-" But now that Frank had pointed it out to him, he did recall that whenever they were talking to Mikey, Ray was just there, walking next to his brother even if he wasn't participating in the conversation.

 

Another thought occured to him. "Oh, God," he moaned, rubbing at his eyes with his fingers, moving so that he was sitting cross-legged on the bed.

 

"What? _What_?" Frank nudged Gerard's knee with his hip.

 

"His sheets," Gerard groaned," I've been washing them all month, because he's been too lazy to do it. I- I thought he was watching more porn!"

 

He glared at Frank when he burst out laughing. "This is so not funny! Frank, you couldn't have let me live in peace!"

 

Frank was still giggling like a small child. "Oh my god, you are so oblivious. It's not like they were discreet."

 

"I am not oblivious!" Gerard protested. "Fuck, I'm going to kill them."

 

"You kind of are," Frank snickered," I cannot believe that my best friend is so dim."

 

"I-" Gerard frowned down at him. "I'm your best friend?"

 

There were a few seconds where Frank didn't say anything. He just stared at Gerard with what looked like awe.

 

Then, he said in a hushed voice," Shit, you really are oblivious. This makes so much more sense. I thought _I_ was doing something wrong."

 

"This...what?" Gerard gaped at him, his mouth hanging open slightly. He 

 

"Fucker." And the next thing Gerard knew, Frank was surging up, fiercly pressing their lips together. Gerard let out a tiny squeak of surprise, flailing his hands for a moment before putting them around Frank's waist, pulling them closer together.

 

He could feel Frank's hand fisted in his t-shirt, sliding them closer until Frank was almost in his lap. Frank made a small, satisfied noise as he ran his thumb over Gerard's jaw, which sent shivers down Gerard's spine.

 

It ended much more gently than it started. When Gerard's eyes fluttered open, he could see Frank, still just inches from him, his hazel eyes intently focused on him.

 

"Fucking hell, Gee," Frank breathed," I've wanted to do that for fucking months."

 

Gerard's mouth dropped open, just a bit, and he gaped at him.

 

"How hard is it to take a fucking hint?" Frank continued.

 

"Sorry?" Gerard answered weakly.

 

Frank cracked a smile, glancing down and then back up, some concern evident on his face. "You were, like, okay with it, though, right?" he asked, unclenching his fist from Gerard's shirt and moving back slightly. "You're not mad?"

 

"Frankie," Gerard said, lifting his hand to brush some strands of dark hair from Frank's face. "I am _definitely_ okay with it."

 

Frank's lips- God, Gerard wanted to kiss him again- curved up into a smile. "Good," he said happily, twisting around to turn of the lamp, and slowly lying back down, pulling down on Gerard's wrist.

 

Gerard slid down next to him, and Frank, a bit aggressively, guided his arm so that they were spooning together in Frank's bed. Gerard felt like he was about to explode from the rush of elation he felt. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he could cuddle with Frank, all soft and sleepy and content. If he tried to tell the version of himself from, say, a month ago, he would tell himself to fuck off.

 

He allowed himself to stroke the soft skin on Frank's arm, feeling like he was vibrating from pure joy. There were so many possibilities now, that Gerard had never even considered possible- they could be _boyfriends_ , he could kiss Frank awake tomorrow morning-

 

"Go to sleep, Gee," Frank mumbled, tangling his fingers with Gerard's and pulling up his hand to press his lips to Gerard's knuckles.

 

Gerard lifted himself up and pressed a light kiss to the side of Frank's head, feeling his soft hair tickle Gerard's chin. "Happy birthday, Frankie," he murmered, before dropping his head back down to the pillow and letting himself fade into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment if you like it?


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